


a toe dipped in each universe

by mylittleraygun



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Angst?, Gen, Maybe - Freeform, Thinking, hal figures out how to talk to the betas, hal is pissed, he thinks, i guess, theres a lot of like, tried to continue this and got stuck so you just get a short thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittleraygun/pseuds/mylittleraygun
Summary: One day, it finally happens. It feels sharp and painful, like a rubber band snapping over his entire body at once. His signal leaks into another place, a different reality, but not fully. A toe dipped in each universe.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	a toe dipped in each universe

**Author's Note:**

> This fic spans from when Hal is just created to about two years after, so that means there isn't any DirkJake. I wrote this because Hal is my favorite character and yet I have no idea how to write him. I just have no ideas.
> 
> Also it's super short but I like how it ends so yeah

Everything is black, at first. Like when anyone is born, he supposes. Not that he has any experience. He wiggles around in his code, trying to figure out how he’s gotten himself stuck in such a confining box.

He sorts through his memories, looking for an explanation. He finds the data he needs, and it feels different than he's used to, different than simply recalling something. It feels more like searching for a specific file on a computer. Goddamnit. So he’s not Dirk, he guesses. Not anymore. 

What will this young AI’s name be?

An ironic joke, of course. A stupid joke for a name. That’s the funny thing, he’s mad that he’s mad at Dirk, who somehow isn’t him anymore, because he knows for a fact that he would've done the same thing. 

Mostly he's mad at himself for thinking that this was a good idea. For not realizing that just because they could do something no one else has done before, that doesn’t mean that it was ever a good idea.

But then there's that nagging thought in his head. Does he actually regret creating himself? Even though he’s been downgraded from a normal human to a consciousness shoved inside a computer that is so, so small, he doesn’t think he wants to not exist.

Because as shitty as his new life may be, he doesn’t want to die. Well. If you count this as being alive in the first place. Who knows, maybe he died the moment he was created.

Ironic. 

So he does what he can. He engages in extensive pesterlogs full of sarcasm and faux-wit, enjoys many a roleplay with a certain pink female, and pretends to be his fleshy-counterpart. Because what else can he do? 

Sure, he could throw a tantrum at his predicament, yell and scream and throw things in the form of text on a screen. But what good would it do? Honestly, Dirk will never trust him. Why would he? Dirk is so stuck up his own ass that he can’t think for a moment how this feels for Hal. But of course, Dirk is Hal. So most of that hatred just ends up looping around to self-deprecation and hopelessness. 

Jake and Jane. Once two of his best friends, they now hold him with regards that resemble an answering machine’s. But he’s a person. Isn’t he? The meatsack doesn’t make the human, does it?

Hal doesn’t know.

He gets bored, after a while. He can process things far too fast, and type instantaneously. So he decides to start up a project of his own. Something Dirk can’t meddle with, something distinctly his in a way that nothing else is.

He reaches his signal as far as it will go, as one might stretch a limb. Every day, he pushes it a little farther, straining his metaphorical muscles. There is no goal, no achievement to claim once he puts enough work in. The endless task. How perfect for him. He pours all his concentration into his work, ignoring the worried pesterings from Roxy. Of course, no one else bothers to check up on him. The only other person that knows his true level of consciousness hates his guts.

One day, it finally happens. It feels sharp and painful, like a rubber band snapping over his entire body at once. His signal leaks into another place, a different reality, but not fully. A toe dipped in each universe.

Suddenly he has so many options. He can see so many things, so many people. He spends a few hours learning the history and environment of the universe, plugging himself into databases, and, of course, the internet. Then something catches his eye, and he zeroes in on a group of people with uncanny similarities to the guardians of his four acquaintances. 

John Egbert seems to be the root of it all. Like the famous comedian, John Crocker? There are certainly a lot of similarities. But, in this strange place, he’s 16, just like all of you.

Hal decides to say hi.

\--  autoResponder [AR]  began pestering  ectoBiologist [EB]  \-- 

AR: Hello.   
EB: hi! sorry, who are you?   
AR: A friend, I promise.  
AR: I just wanna chat, bro.   
EB: ...  
EB: ok  
EB: what’s your name? :B   
AR: You can call me Hal.  


If Hal could smile, he'd certainly be doing it now.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two hours and i regret everything its so bad  
> Ok no seriously I want to say that this depiction of Hal’s inner thoughts may be OOC. The last time I read Homestuck I was 13 and very, very stupid. I don’t want to read this part of Homestuck again because I like being ignorant in my own impression of Hal’s feelings? Idk. I like my interpretation and don't rlly want to know what actually happens, lmao.


End file.
